


WAAAAARRRRR

by alcego, coralreefskim



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crafting Memes, Cyberpunk BodySwap, Fairies, Fic War, Glitter Herpes, It's done, M/M, Probably Incorrect Usage of Binary Coding, WAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR, WE WILL TAG AS WE GO, Witches, also, also introduced new characters!!!!, also lmao i made everything confusing, because thats a thing i said so, fairytale bakery, glitter herpes is not a meme, i love fighting with people, i rushed the ending but whatever, introducing Lotor: an example in poor lab safety, it's not a crafting meme ally, why do i keep missing things like these
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcego/pseuds/alcego, https://archiveofourown.org/users/coralreefskim/pseuds/coralreefskim
Summary: It all started with a normal day at the bakery, selling charmed and spelled cookies and cupcakes. But that changed when those doors closed he received an unexpected visitor. Now Lance has to go create one of the most difficult cursebreakers there ever to exist in order to save his family from the dark wizard.





	1. Fairytale Bakery

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of the fic wars! If you do not know what the fic wars is please refer to [this](https://fandomficwars.tumblr.com/post/166027788945/i-have-a-dumb-idea-fic-wars) post.
> 
> Basically we each have a genre or trope and one story, we wrench it from the previous genre to make it fit our own while still keeping the "reality" of the fic intact.  
> But  
> There are three authors here: Three authors, one fic, _two genre/aus_ each.
> 
> Enjoy.

Lance packaged up the half-dozen cupcakes, each one shimmering with magic. He wrapped up the small white box with a pink ribbon and a murmur of a spell. Spinning around he dinged the bell on the counter.

“Six coronation cupcakes for the fairy!”

A dainty hand flicked in the air before it dematerialized and popped up directly in front of him. He squawked in surprise and pressed a hand to his heart. “Allura, you know I hate it when you do that.”

She laughed, sounding like the prettiest of wind chimes. “I’m sorry, Lance, but it’s the easiest form of transportation.”

He gave her a _look_. “Uh, huh.” He shoved the container at her. “Just take it, you don’t want to be late for another coronation. Last time you fell asleep for 10,000 years.”

“That was because of the Marmorites!”

He waved his hand, brushing away her excuses. “Yeah, yeah, opposing houses, evil winter fae. Whatever. Take your cupcakes and go.”

Allura stuck her tongue out at him but taking the container nonetheless. “You’ll be there for the midsummer dance correct?”

“I’ll see how much I have to do here. Happy inter-dimensional traveling!”

She rolled her eyes before she dissolved into a shower of glitter.

He wrinkled his nose at the mess. Uh, she totally did that on purpose. “Uh, the herpes of the crafting world.”

He looked back up to his customers. “Who’s next?”

He let himself be swept away with the hustle and bustle of customers. Picking up phone orders, prepping big batches of baked goods for tea parties or other magical gatherings, arguing with fellow witches on the phone because _no he will not make a poisoned cake for their revenge scheme._

His bakery might not have been the easiest to get to in the royal realms of the fairytale universe, considering it was locked in the inter-dimensional planes between worlds, but it was one of the best. The best charms and spells placed on his baked goods, guaranteeing infatuation, good luck, clear skin (that one was always popular) and the like. He had the best spelled decorations, no one else can understand how to get the realistic nature of his blooming flowers, fluttering butterflies, little guns shooting little candies, or even the small people dancing away on the top of the frosting like a ballroom. Or even the best taste. Other witch-owned bakeries couldn’t seem to get rid of the bitter taste of the magic in their baked goods but Lance had a _technique_.

Which was a secret passed down from his abuela and no one but either his protégé or his children will know until the end of days.

“Have fun at the princesses’ christenings!” Lance called waving goodbye to his last customer.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he turned the sign from Open to Closed. He looked out into the swirling vortex of blues and purples outside of his storefront. The single road in front of it the only path to and from his bakery, leading to the endless churning sky. He walked that path several times and each time he ended up somewhere different, but he turns back and has always come back to his bakery.

He knows some creatures like Allura can materialize but others have to find this place by other means. His mortal friend Hunk always told him he just had to walk down a path with the bakery in mind and he would end up in front of the bakery. While his friend Pidge, a technological gremlin, always told him they would just focus on their favorite baked good and they’d digitized in the middle of the shop.

He started to sweep up as much of the glitter herpes that Allura left him. Preferring his two hands over using a spell, sometimes magic just can’t get the job done. Only hard work, a wet sponge, and double-sided sticky tape can get rid of the glitter herpes.

The bell dinged and Lance didn’t even look up from his sweeping. “Sorry, we’re closed.”

He heard the door close and Lance braced his broom with offensive magic. “I’m sorry but we’re clo—“

He hit the counter, besom flung out of his grasp, gasping for breath as a dark wizard loomed over him. Magic eye zeroing onto him, enchanted arm gripping his neck to lift him off the ground.

Lance clutched at the ancient tree root wrapping around his throat, choking, nails breaking in desperation to remove the hand.

“From what I heard you’re the one to talk to about enchantments.” The wizard growled, sharp teeth glinting in the fairy lights that illuminated his store. “I need to break a curse.” He dropped him.

Lance landed harshly on his hands and knees, trying not to cough due to his throat. Hand to his throat he allowed his magic to heal his bruised windpipe. His voice was still a rasp when he sassed, “You didn’t need to choke me, asshole.”

The wizard crouched down, cruel smile in place. “But this is so much more fun.” He slapped the floor next to him, getting into his face. “Now, I need to break a life suspension curse.”

“As appealing as that is I don’t do business with dark wizards,” Lance spat.

The wizard laughed. “I don’t think you have a choice. I have a taglock on this place, you can move it as much as you want but I’ll always find you. You either help and gain the beneficence of Emperor Zarkon or… I will find your mother, your father, your sisters, and your brother. I _know_ where they are, and believe me, I’m not above torture to get what I want.”

Lance gritted his teeth. Emperor _Zarkon_? The darkest emperor in the history of their dimension? Lance wasn’t born during his reign, only heard stories of him from his abuela. He was familiar with the cruelty of him, the families he tore apart, magical creatures he brought to extinction, and the years of darkness he subjected his kingdom. His family thankfully was safe in their own universe but even then they knew of him.

The story that was told was that Zarkon was a fair and just ruler, with a loving wife who was not just an advisor but also his top alchemist. Their kingdom thrived under their rule, the hub of science and magic until the announcement of his wife’s pregnancy. The kingdom rejoiced at the news, the thought of this perfect child of Zarkon’s fair kindness and leadership with Honerva’s intelligence and thirst for knowledge. As the date of his birth approached Honerva grew sick and was unwell by the time she was due to give birth.

Zarkon did all that he could but it was not enough. She died in labor. No news of the health of the child but it seemed that the infant died as well. Zarkon fell into the dark magic, neglecting his kingdom in favor for black market charms and slick dark wizards. He let his kingdom fall. His abused people starved and died, his country’s resources depleted to go to the impossible revival spells. Terrorizing his kingdom for the unknown ingredients, spreading the darkness until no one was left fighting under the belief he could beat death. Until a simple mage was close enough to Zarkon to set a life-suspension spell on him.

Lance did not believe anyone, let alone that kingdom, could handle a madman like that again.  One who believed he could cheat death, who would crush anyone in his path, even if the goal was impossible.

But he has his family, the loves of his life. He would do _anything_ for them.

 _Even curse an entire dimension to another thousands of years of darkness?_ A voice inside him asked.

He didn’t know. And what they asked for was rare. He wasn’t even confident enough if he could accomplish to break that curse. Time.

He just needed time.

“Fine,” he gritted out.

A stupidly smug look stretched across his face, the smile strange and unnatural as if unused to the form. “Excellent. Be prepared for my next visit.”

“I’m going to need at least three months.”

The wizard barked out a laugh. “Three months? Do you honestly think that I’ll wait that long? I’ll give you one week.”

“Two weeks!” Lance squawked. He pushed up from the ground to his knees, persuasion in his voice. “I need more time than that! I have to hunt for those ingredients, not even telling the rarity of them. Two months.”

The root arm pinned him down by his chest; Lance could feel a few ribs crack. He groaned as the man applied more pressure. “I am not foolish enough to believe your tricks, witch. I’m sure you’ll find a way, but because I’m feeling benevolent I’ll give you an extra week. Three weeks you’ll have the curse breaker.”

“Fine,” Lance ground out. “Three weeks. And you’ll leave me and my family alone.”

That magic eye narrowed on him as he condescendingly patted his face. The doorbell jingled as he left, mockingly cheerful.

Lance ran his hands down his face scrubbing at his eyes. He pushed healing magic into one hand, making it glow a soft yellow light, and pressed the warm magic into his cracked ribs.

He bought himself an extra two weeks thanks to the charmspeak he was able to use. Three weeks. Three weeks to either gather the ingredients, put it all together on the new moon of rebirth for a cursebreaker that might not even work. Or find a way to hide his family and himself away for the rest of their lives.

He sighed and leaned against the counter, ribs feeling better. He looked down to check the damage but instead saw the front of his shirt sparkling. He looked to his palm to find a good amount of glitter.

He sighed again, head thunking against the glass container behind him.

Glitter herpes.


	2. Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The area around them seemed to warp -- after all, reality was bending around them. Lance felt vertigo, almost tipping over, but concentrated on ensuring his butt wasn't on the ground.
> 
> She opened her eyes suddenly, blue-pink eyes taken over by a deeply saturated green. Her hair rose behind her, almost gently. She raised a hand higher, still circling her wrists, as everything that the fairy kingdom was of seemed to fade into non existence -- at least, for Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which i literally break down the fic  
> genre: cyberpunk bodyswap
> 
> when you see the numbers, don't freak; it's meant to happen.

“You were _what_?”

Lance winced at the shrill tone Allura gave him, leaning backwards into the chair unconsciously. “Look, Allura, I'm just saying--"

“No,” Allura cut in, voice low and icy, like an issued decree. Lance looked up at her, frowning in disbelief. “I will _not_ allow you to cross the borders -- I shouldn't even allow you to continue this search! If anyone else knows--"

He stood up, slamming his hands against the wooden table. “My _family_ will be _killed_ if I don't do this, Allura!” He glared, daring to look straight into the eyes of his friend. “I know this is wrong, okay? And- and I'll find a way to stop it I just--" he groaned, staring down at the table, forcing out a harsh whisper, “I need more time.”

Three weeks was not enough time.

Not enough for searching ingredients for a curse breaker, a curse that's been buried for millennia.

Not enough for figuring them out enough to make one that enhanced the curse instead, without letting it be known that it had that effect.

Not enough to make a plan.

Not enough to save his family.

He chuckled weakly, fists clenched tighter till his knuckles turned white. He didn't even know that his plan -- if he had a plan -- would work. The man that even Allura, secretly the princess of Altea, could not identify, would have to know every turn and corner in the magic realm to be able to put trackers on his family -- a magic like that would cost Lance a lifetime of cakes.

The reason why he couldn't find a curse breaker would probably be because the one who cursed the late emperor was a mage -- those two had some sort of weird magicky rivalry going on. Everything the man attempted was probably futile.

Everything Lance could do was probably futile.

He felt a hand to his shoulder and looked up, taking in the sight of Allura, worrying her bottom lip and knitting her eyebrows with a sort of feral look -- a look unbefitting for a future queen such as she. She looked old, almost, like all the responsibilities she had was finally getting caught up to her physical appearance.

He felt bad for being so forceful with her and taking advantage of her status, but it wasn't as if he had another choice. His family was everything to him. He couldn't let anything, anything at all, take them away from him.

( _Even if it meant sacrificing the entire fairy kingdom?_ a voice whispered in his head.

He shook his head. _No time for that._ )

Allura let out a breath, finally. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looked down at her other hand, like she was examining the glowing patterns barely concealed by the garment she was wearing. “Alright, alright, we'll-- have you told anyone about this?”

Lance blinked. “I'm sorry?”

“Have you told anyone about what happened? Families, friends--"

“Oh, oh yea I haven't said anything to anyone.” He glanced off sheepishly before adding, “I was hoping you could, well, cover for my disappearance.”

Allura groaned into the palm of her hands. “I feel like you're using my status as future queen. Are you taking advantage of me?”

Lance batted his eyelashes. “Like you don't use me for my top notch baking skills.”

She laughed at that, smacking Lance in the arm. (Lance winced slightly because she never knows how to control her strength; she'd make a frighteningly powerful queen.) “True, true, that, and when you covered for me when I accidentally let it slip that I was, well, future queen, to the fairies on the street.”

Lance smirked at that. “It was wonderful acting as your boyfriend. Even though it was just acting. Though you have to admit, I was very smooth.”

Allura made an imitation in a barely baritone voice that did not sound like Lance at all, “ _You’re already the queen of my world_.” She laughed. “Honestly, Lance, that was absolutely horrendous.”

Lance squawked in mock horror, putting a hand to his chest and swaying dramatically. “How dare you say that! I cannot _fathom_ why you would utter such a blatant lie!”

Allura snorted, sipping her chamomile tea and tucking a strand of hair behind her pointy ears.

They sat like that in silence, the breeze blowing into the room from the balcony as peaceful and serene as it could. Behind them, Lance’s bags for the journey lay untouched, at least for now, not in their rare moment of calm and quiet.

Lance looks up at the clock ticking. “I should get going.”

The smile on Allura's face shortened to a thin line, her expression unreadable. “If you must.”

He got up and turned, or at least tried to, before a hand tugged him backwards. He found himself falling into Allura’s arms, and she wove them tight around him, squeezing him in an embrace of silent pleas.

He could tell she had a million things running in her mind -- her coronation was in three week’s time, and if they did the exact math the spell would have to be ready just in time for the crowning ceremony, when the people were most distracted. Lance probably could've chosen a better time, but that one detail had slipped his mind, since he was kinda almost dying then. Still, he had to at least try.

Even if it meant getting into another realm of existence to find an ingredient of a decidedly terrible spell, an ingredient he'd only seen in storybook that were probably not correctly illustrated, he still had to try.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Allura.

She pulled away slowly, as if trying to remember how Lance felt, and dabbed quickly at her eyes. She chuckled, but her voice sounded wet. “You should leave as soon as possible.”

Sitting up in a straighter posture, she said quietly, but with authority, “I will do everything in my power to ensure your family’s safety till then, so you don't need to worry much,” a softer tone, “focus on keeping yourself safe.”

He picked up his bags and turned to her, cocking his head to the side with a smirk that was meant to be reassuring. “I will. You keep an eye out for yourself too, yea?”

She nodded, stepping around the table and pushing it to the side. She inhaled, raising her hands slowly, freezing when they were at waist level and closed her eyes. Circling her wrist in a slow careful motion, she let out a soft exhale.

The area around them seemed to warp -- after all, reality was bending around them. Lance felt vertigo, almost tipping over, but concentrated on ensuring his butt wasn't on the ground.

She opened her eyes suddenly, blue-pink eyes taken over by a deeply saturated green. Her hair rose behind her, almost gently. She raised a hand higher, still circling her wrists, as everything that the fairy kingdom was of seemed to fade into non existence -- at least, for Lance.

“Now, I'm not exactly skilled in this field -- I'm not Pidge, after all,” Allura muttered, voice almost too quiet for Lance to hear over the rushing blood in his ears, “but you should be able to get to your first destination. When you've done that and need to move on to the next, just say--"

The world seemed to be swallowed at that point, even though Lance knew Allura was still standing there and speaking, even though the breeze seemed to be calmer now, even though Lance knew his family was somewhere far away, unsafe yet unsuspecting. Lance tried to ground himself back into reality, to hear what Allura was saying, but when he reached out to her his hands were flashing with green and black numbers -- specifically 0s and 1s.

Binary code, he realized. He remembered Pidge talking about something like this, but among rounding off and zeroes and ones everything had left his head completely.

He tried to scream at Allura that something might be going wrong, but it seemed that she couldn't listen. Wait, no, she couldn't, because he wasn't _speaking_ \-- numbers spilt out from his mouth and surrounded him, as if they were trying to swallow him up.

The last of the codes choked him in the throat he didn't know he still had, and his vision seemed to disperse completely, making way for new numbe01110010 01110011 00101110

01101001 01101110 01101001 01110100 01101001 01100001 01101100 01101001 01111010 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110111 01101111 01110010 01101100 01100100 00101110 00101110 00101110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01100101 01110010 00101110 00101110 00101110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101111 01100010 01101010 01100101 01100011 01110100 00101110 00101110 00101110 00001010 00101110 00100000 00101110 00100000 00101110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110100 01100101 00101110 00001010 01100101 01101110 01110100 01100101 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101100 01101111 01100010 01100010 01111001 00101110 00001010 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 00101110 00100000 01100011 01100001 01101110 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01110101 01110100 01100101 00101110 00100000 01101101 01100001 01100111 01101001 01100011 00100000 01100100 01100101 01110100 01100101 01100011 01110100 01100101 01100100 00101110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110100 01101111 01100011 01101111 01101100 00100011 00110000 00110100 00110101 00110110 00111100 01101110 01100001 01101101 01100101 00111010 01000010 01010011 01110111 01100001 01110000 00111110 00001010 01100100 01101001 01110010 01100101 01100011 01110100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01100101 01110010 00100011 00110011 00110100 00110110 00110010 00111100 01101110 01100001 01101101 01100101 00111010 01001011 01100101 01101001 01110100 01101000 00111110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00101110 00101110 00001010 01101100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110100 01100101 00101110

 

Keith was having a terrible day.

“ _Red, do you have eyes on the target?_ ”

He pressed his earpiece, eyes focused on the figure in front of him. “Affirmative.”

He watched as the woman danced into the arms of another partner, laughing away in glee. She wrapped her arms around the larger man, lips tugged upwards at corners at a suggestive smirk. He could almost hear the sweet nothings and the empty promises the woman was murmuring into the man’s ear, taking in how languid his posture became since the unnecessary full on body contact.

Keith made a face at the event that just unfolded in front of him. “I feel like I'm watching the beginning of a bad porno.”

He heard a snort on the other end of the receiver. “ _Just focus on the job, Red._ ”

He glanced sideways back at the woman again, sighing when he saw hands that snaked into territory that should not be explored in public areas.

He was in his red tux that night, one that his partner had said would suit him when they went for another mission prior to this. An expensive looking wristwatch donned his wrist, emphasizing on the paleness of his skin. His hair was tied to the back from one side, creating the illusion of an undercut, and his eyes were highlighted with light makeup, making his almost purple eyes seem daunting.

He gave the impression of a young rich bachelor in search for a wild night, which was pretty far off what he actually was.

He sipped his fifth glass of red wine that night, mind still clear with his (sadly) high tolerance, as he leaned against the wall, blending in with the crowd around him.

His eyes still followed the movement of the lady, a daughter of an esteemed diplomat, heiress to the company that was currently controlling the economy. According to his partner, they managed a large section in the field of business, coupled with the black market that everyone knew but ignored, lest the ones who actually dealt in it.

“I don't get it,” Keith muttered quietly, nodding to a waitress as he gave his glass to her, “I'm the worst one at socializing. Why aren't you taking my place instead?”

A sigh on the other end; Keith was already used to the sighing. “ _We've talked about this already. Plus,_ ” a moment of hesitation, “ _we're not supposed to be talking about it._ ”

Keith pursed his lips, crossing his arms as an attempt to hide himself even further into the shadows. Someone at the corner of his eye was looking at him, so he glared back, trying to deliver as much murder intent as he could.

He probably shouldn't be doing that.

He already knew why he was here -- he and the team had discussed it many times before the Winter Gala, but he still wasn't satisfied. Shiro (the one on the other end) was charming, handsome and, most importantly, a natural diplomat, so he could've easily swayed the lady to do his liking.

Keith, however, lacked in experience in the social department in general. He didn't get social cues, never understood references even among his friends, never really fit in, at least until he met his team. He was probably more of an asset to the offense than… than _this_.

Though to be fair, he did understand why he was present while the others weren't: Shiro had a scar across his face on the bridge of his nose from a previous fight they had that went horribly wrong, and a prosthetic arm as a less obvious memento of that incident. While they did need to catch the lady’s attention, too much would've led to their cover blown.

Matt, on the other hand, was their hacker -- despite his handsome face, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to leave the field both Shiro and Keith absolutely sucked at. Plus, even though he wasn't lacking in the strength department, he fitted more as a diversion -- the guy knew how to distract people, even a crowd of angry cops.

(Keith spoke from and only from experience. Don't ask.)

That left Keith, and, well, Keith was attractive enough, probably. Shiro had smacked Keith’s face lightly and said, “stop sulking and put that face to use,” before they left, so that might've proved a point. Keith wasn't very sure, though he didn't necessarily care.

The lady seemed to be getting bored of the large man, pulling away from the body contact and looking around the crowd of people as they twirled around the dance floor. She momentarily made eye contact with him, and, with a smirk, winked at him.

Keith inhaled sharply and braced himself. “I'm going in.”

“ _About time._ ”

He walked towards the centre of the room, pushing through the crowd with what he hoped was a confident stride.

The music stopped then, probably switching the singer. The dancers changed partners again, and Keith intercepted between the lady and another person, putting a hand to her waist and another to hold hers in one smooth motion.

The lady looked surprised, though mildly impressed. The other person glared at Keith, clearly annoyed, but Keith just nodded at them. “Sorry, didn't see you there.” He turned his attention back to the lady as they left. “Ah, did I interrupt something?”

She laughed, comfortably sliding up her hand to his shoulder. “Oh, no, everyone has been wanting to dance with me tonight,” she stared up at him from half lidded eyes, “including you, mister…?”

“Mister--? Oh, it's Ke--”

“ _Don't tell her your real name you dimwit--_ ”

“--Kevin,” Keith quickly said. “Kevin is fine.”

Keith tried to ignore the collection of breaths of relief as the lady raised an eyebrow at him. “Kevin? Common name, especially for a handsome man such as yourself.” She tilted her head slightly to the side. “My name is Eve, daughter of Vernon, but you already know that.”

No, he did not, because he wasn't listening to the mission debriefing despite there being only 3 people on the team, including himself, but the lady didn't need to know that. “Yes, well--”

The emcee of the night suddenly stood on stage, mic in his hands, the next band to play already in position. “Next up, it's getting a little colder here, but we have a little something to spice up the mood!”

The band played, the music picking up into an allegro, and the crowd cheered and mixed into a scattered dance. The beat was fast paced, meant for maybe salsa or tango, Keith didn't know -- he'd never danced before.

Keith felt his heart seize in his throat. “I--”

Eve smiled. “Oh no you don't. Come on! It'll be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t--”

“I'll teach you,” she answered, pulling him closer to her and moving in a smooth pace.

There was a little swing in her movements that made her a little offbeat, though not _not_ a sight to see -- for a woman of small stature, she could move with intensity and vigour skillfully.

Keith tried to match her movements, and though he was lacking in the smooth department, he was getting the hang of it. Soon enough, due to their large movements, the entire dance floor cleared off for the two of them. Keith wasn't comfortable with the attention, but Eve seemed to revel in it, dancing more gracefully while leaving space for Keith to catch up.

The music came to a stop, and Eve pulled Keith down in a dip, noses apart in inches. The crowd erupted into a roar of applause for them, but Eve concentrated on Keith's eyes.  
“Upstairs?” she murmured.

Keith wanted to puke.

She pulled at his hand, dragging him to the elevator and groaning loudly when the lif was taking too long, then dragged him to the stairs. She shushed the butler standing guard and made her way towards a dimly lit corridor, pushing open a closed door that led to a bedroom.

She closed the door behind her, smirking at Keith. “So,” she drawled, “what now?”

“Now?” Keith turned towards her, pulling off his gloves and walking slowly towards her. “Now, I make something clear.”

She stared at him when he put a hand to the door, his body towering over hers, and gulped. “What is it?”

Keith grinned for the first time that night, flicking his wrists to reveal a taser underneath his watch. “I'm gay.”

Her eyes widened in shock as her mouth opened, but before she could scream, Keith stabbed the taser to the side of her neck.

Her body went limp as electric sparks flew off her, and she slumped to the floor, motionless and soundless. In the process, her arm that landed on the floor was indented slightly due to the pressure, revealing a set of wires underneath.

“ _I personally thought that was the introduction to the bad porno._ ”

Keith scoffed, taking out a screwdriver from his kit and pulling apart at Eve (she's an AI identical to a human, if you're still confused), ripping out her wig and screwing the panel at the top of her head. “Shut up, Green. Tell me what I need to do.”

He heard Shiro scoff. “ _That's a pretty difficult thing to ask of him._ ”

Matt ignored Shiro, though Keith sensed a bit of fondness in his voice. “ _There should be a port inside there somewhere that you can connect to._ ”

“I see it.”

“ _Good. Do it now. And switch on visibility while you're on it; I need to see what's happening just in case._ ”

Keith turned the dial at the earpiece, his vision momentarily taken up by green binary codes as Matt scanned the AI. “That okay?”

“ _Yea, thanks, I'll be done in a minute--_ "

Just then, Keith's vision blurred in green and black, intensified -- unlike Matt’s program, this one was taking over his entire body, swallowing him up.

He screamed, not in pain, but the temporary numbness that had taken over his body -- he felt like he didn't exist for a moment, that, that someone was taking _over him_ , and he pulled at his hair to feel pain, to ground him back into reality but his consciousness was ebbing away--

“ _Red? Red! Red, do you copy? Black, I'm seeing this thing I've never seen before through the cams and Red isn't responding -- calling for extraction_ now _!_ ”

Keith fell onto the floor, right in front of the mirror, and saw his body covered in numbers -- no, his body was _turning into them_ , into binary coding Keith never tried to understand, and he tried to make sense of what was happening but he couldn't--

A boy in blue clothing materialized in front of him right out the coding, eyes closed, muscles tensed, and he fell in front of Keith, face to face with him. Keith blinked, trying to understand what had happened but--

When he opened his eyes, he saw himself staring back, and his vision turned dark.

 

“Hmmm…”

Lance woke up lazily, blinking the sleepiness away from his eyes as he yawned. He sat up on the bed and stretched, relaxed and content with the good night’s sleep. He rubbed his tummy -- the texture of his cloths were a little rough for some reason.

He turned to see his own body sitting in the corner of the room staring right at him.

“GHOST!” Lance screamed in fear, scrambling against the wall for some sense of comfort, “My face is too beautiful for you to copy!”

The doppelganger’s eye twitched slightly, and he stood, slowly walking towards Lance. Lance had never seen that pissed off of an expression on anyone, especially on his own face, so it was a given that he felt uncomfortable when he saw his angry self stand beside the bed.

“Can you maybe,” the lookalike said through gritted teeth, “explain any of this?”

Lance blinked owlishly at him, mind drawing a blank, before the happenings of previous events rushed into his brain, cramming as much information as it could in visuals and words and _oh god his family was going to die and the fairy kingdom is going to die and--_

Lance looked away from the lookalike and caught a glimpse of a side mirror. The sight of the face of another man greeted him, mirroring his movements, as shocked as he was. 

He touched his own face, and the man in the mirror followed suit.

His mind raced with a million questions -- he remembered Allura talking about what would happen if he obtained the first ingredient to the curse breaker, but he didn't catch on what to do. He didn't have a way to go back.

He didn't have a way to go back.

He tried thinking back to what Pidge had said before about binary coding and technology in general. Something about numbers… abnormalities… bugs…

He looked up, his mouth gaping. “There was a glitch.” He turned back to the man. “Something went wrong with the transportation system. _There was a glitch_.”

The eyebrows loosened, replaced by confusion, and the doppelganger took a step back. “What--”

The door opened just in time -- Lance noticed that the room was nearly empty in terms of furniture, with only a bed and a side mirror and a stool at the far corner -- and a man twice the size he was came in. The weirdly colored metal arm and the weird attire choice poked at Lance's curiosity, but he was slightly worried over the huge scar the man had on his face.

“I see you two are awake,” the man said, voice warm and gruff at edges. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh, I wasn't sure if putting you two together was a good idea, but Matt said he needed to test something, so--”

“I'm Keith,” his doppelganger said, pointing to himself with a deadpan expression, ““and he's whoever the fuck he is.”

“Uh, the name’s _Lance_ ,” Lance retorted, putting his hands to his hips. It was kinda awkward, given his sitting up position, but he tried making it work.

The man at the door looked back and forth between them, before raising his hands in surrender. “You know what? I completely believe you.”

Lance’s body -- Keith blinked in surprise. “You do?”

The man shrugged. “You,” he pointed at Lance’s body, “have Keith's expression, and Keith literally _never_ puts his hands like that.”

Keith grumbled begrudgingly, “sounds about right.” He turned towards Lance, crossing his arms. Lance had a flashback to when his Mama used to tell him to stop looking grumpy. He felt like saying that to Keith right now. “Can you maybe explain everything?”

Everything.

From the fairy kingdom to the dark mage to his family to Allura to the binary coding system to him currently.

He wasn't sure if he could explain _everything_.

He looked up again at the two men, gazes full of expectation, one with patience and the other with lack of tolerance. He needed their help, he knew that much -- he didn't know how different his world was with them, but he needed every ounce of information he could get, if he wanted to help his family.

Lance pursed his lips. “Guess I'll have to start from the top.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall liked it lmao  
> honestly this is like, a really cool challenge so im thankful for my friends to have me :'))))))
> 
> your move, ally.


	3. Two Steps Forward...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith slammed into him, hand going immediately to his shoulder and pushing him down onto the bed. With startling efficiency, Keith pinned Lance’s arms to the mattress. _Coño_ , dude was totally working for the Wizard Council. 
> 
> It turned out that the muscles on Keith’s body weren’t just for show; it was much easier to unpin his arms than he would’ve expected. Lance shoved Keith off of him and rolled off the bed. Moving instinctively, he popped up and put distance between himself and the bed, staring at Keith as he struggled to untangle the haphazard heap of limbs he’d landed in. 
> 
> “I don’t want to!” Lance said, unable to stop the words now that they’d started. “I really, really, _really_ don’t want to. But I don’t have a choice!”
> 
> “You always have a choice!” Keith snapped, pointing a finger menacingly at Lance. The gesture would have been much more intimidating were the guy not still trying to untangle his legs. But Keith quickly found his feet, and was off the bed in a heartbeat, approaching Lance with the whole heat of his fury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my au: cyberpunk thriller
> 
> kim look i did it plz don't send me vore
> 
> ps: lexie there are so many sex facts... SO MANY

“Look, there’s a _lot_ going on here,” Lance said quickly, the same way he said most everything else. Hopefully he’d be able to buy enough time to figure out what to tell these guys. He didn’t know much about them, but he was pretty sure that a story about _fairies_ and _imminent death of his entire family_ wouldn’t be received well.

…loading textures…

Although, there was a definite possibility that this guy was trying to distract him and like, mug him or something. There was a chance that it was working. And by _chance_ he really meant that he was already distracted.

“Okay, what’s up with the weird floating words? Like, I get that you guys are nerds or whatever, but why’s this guy wearing my face? Is that why the textures are loading? Really, this place already feels pretty textured so I don’t see why that’d be necessary in the first place—”

“ _What exactly did it say?_ ” a low tenor voice – Matt, he assumed – asked quickly. There was something in his urgent manner of speaking that spooked Lance. Add that to the fact that no one currently in the room had spoken and Lance was pretty sure his heart rate would register at _panic attack_ if someone were to measure it.

“It just said _loading textures,_ ” Lance said shortly, throwing his arms out in a gesture that said _what do you want me to do about it?_

Motion by the door drew his attention. The scarred man shook his shock of white hair to the side, and Lance’s eyes were drawn to the shaved sides of his head. Who had thought that was a good idea for a haircut?

Oblivious to Lance’s distaste for his haircut, the scarred man placed his hands on his hips and frowned. “I didn’t get a system message,” he said, but his mouth didn’t move.

“Shiro?” Keith asked, moving as if to step towards the scarred man but stopping before he got too close. His arms uncrossed themselves to be held stiffly by his sides, and Lance grimaced.

Shiro didn’t respond. His form flickered a neon green and pixelated white and cyan stripes disrupted his continuity. Broken and disjointed halves of words made themselves heard, and Lance’s throat tightened painfully. Shiro was trying to say something, but what?

“What’s happening? Matt?” Keith yelled, his eyes wide with the same fear that had closed an iron fist around his throat, but the clenching of Keith’s jaw came from somewhere else. Lance watched as Keith’s hands balled into fists, and the grimace on his face grew. It was bizarre to see his own body contorting into alien expressions of fear and – anger? Was that anger?

Suddenly Keith turned to Lance and snapped his fingers under his nose. The glower on his face was _so_ out of place. There was no way Lance would’ve been able to contort his own features like that, even if he’d wanted to.

“—even listening?” Keith snapped.

Lance leaned away, notiing with an awkward combination of smugness and discomfort that _his_ body was taller than Keith’s. Which was great, because it meant that he was taller than Keith, but it was also not great because it meant that _Keith_ was taller than him right now.

“You’re not, are you?”

“I am!” Lance yelped indignantly, scrambling to the edge of the bed and staring Keith down. He aimed for intimidating, but he ended up tripping over his legs and overbalancing. _Ay dios_ , he was never going to get used to being in someone else’s body.

“Uh- Matt?” he asked quickly, but something tossed uncomfortably in his stomach. Was he even able to talk to Matt like that?

In a stroke of luck, it turned out that he could. “—eard you the first time, Keith. Really weird hearing your voice coming out of someone else, by the way. Let me try something…” he trailed off, and Lance refocused his gaze on Keith. _Weird,_ he thought, taking note of how his vision had blurred when Matt spoke to him. Had the systems overloaded?

“He heard you,” Lance said to Keith, and _wow_ he really was speaking with his own voice, wasn’t he?

“And I heard him,” Keith replied shortly. “Some of our code must have gotten mixed up when you _glitched_ or whatever.”

Lance nodded. “What parts of our code? I wonder—” he pointed a finger at Keith, who scrunched up his nose into another alien expression. Was it surprise? Distaste? He couldn’t tell. “Can you use my magic?” he asked, leaning forward on the edge of the bed to see what Keith would do.

“Your _what_?” Keith asked, eyes narrow. _Coño_ , the guy totally thought he was screwing with him.

“My magic!” Lance yelped, voice cracking awkwardly. “C’mon man, just try to cast a spell or something. For _science_.”

Keith scowled and looked away and Lance’s heart sunk. He wasn’t even going to try?

But - “Do I just say a spell?” – Keith stared at his palms as if they could answer him and wiggled his fingers experimentally. Nothing happened.

Lance sighed. “If you have to ask then you don’t have the magic.” Well, so much for _that_ plan.

Glitter shot from Keith’s hands in a wide spray. Lance cursed. “Or maybe you do!” he shrieked, glaring at the offending crafting supplies. _Glitter herpes._ “I’m not cleaning that up,” he said, pointing a finger at Keith.

Keith shrugged. “Neither am I. We have bigger things to worry about.”

“Way to state the obvious, Mr. Obvious.” Lance bit his lip and stared at the glitterinig carpet. “Sucks that I didn’t get to keep my magic,” he said, ignoring whatever Keith was going to say, “but whatever. We’ll just have to make—”

“What _exactly_ happened when you glitched?” Keith asked shortly. Lance looked up, surprised, and followed Keith’s gaze to where Shiro’s pixelated form flickered.

How was he supposed to explain what had happened? For all he knew this Keith guy was working with Zarkon or that mysterious douche-canoe that’d put him on this job in the first place. Really, the more that the thought about it the more that he realized this could all be some elaborate trap set up to catch wizards who worked on the black market.

And if this _was_ just a scheme to trap black market wizards then Lance was really and truly royally _screwed_. He was completely without his magic; there was no way he’d be able to complete the job and save his family without outside help.

“ _Pinga_ ,” he hissed, falling back on the bed. “Three weeks! That’s all I have and I need that time to—” he stopped himself, somehow managing enough self-control to stop the anxious rambling that normally ran him into the ground.

But it seemed he didn’t have to worry about this potential-dark-wizard-buster’s competency. “What does that _mean_?” Keith asked, throwing his arms into the air in a dramatic show of bewilderment that Lance admired. “Three weeks until _what_?” he snarled, closing the distance between them.

Keith was close enough to stop him if he tried to run, Lance noticed. Great. Dude was totally a magic cop. Magical overseer?

“Nothing!” Lance lied, rolling away from the image of his own face staring down at him incredulously and shoving his face into a pillow.

“That definitely sounded like something,” Keith said. Fabric rustled in the way it did when it was rubbed against itself, and Lance scoffed inwardly.

 _Is he really crossing his arms again?_ Lance wondered, but that was a superficial thought that shadowed the realer fears in his head. Those fears spiraled deeper, until they touched at something raw inside of him.

He couldn’t just sit there and let his family _die_ just because the situation wasn’t ideal!

“How do we fix that?” Lance asked, waving his arm vaguely in the direction of Shiro’s glitch.

Cloth rustled and Keith sighed. Lance assumed that he’d pressed his arms even closer to his chest or shifted his weight to one leg or something equally brooding, but he refused to look. He was still getting used to the idea that he wasn’t in his own body.

Broken static crackled to life in his ear. Lance winced; for some reason Matt’s broadcast felt less like it was coming from inside the room and more like it was being blasted directly into his ears. Or was it inside his head? He wasn’t sure that there was much of a difference.

“—aving a glitch— - the so-ftware,” Matt said through the static. Lance frowned into the pillow. Another glitch?

“Like the one that switched our bodies?” Keith asked. There was something in the way his voice cracked that portrayed a picture of concerned intensity, and Lance wondered what expression he was wearing and how it would look on the correct face.

“— - not quite.” It sounded like the beginning of an explanation, but the static grew worse and overwhelmed anything he was going to say.

Lance pushed himself up and glanced at Keith. Or – it was supposed to be a glance. But his eyes got stuck on the pinched brow and the lip that he was worrying, and he imagined the way that it’d look on Keith’s face instead of his own. _Beautiful,_ was not a word Lance normally used to describe himself (he preferred to use _hot_ , _suave_ , and _cool_ ) but it was the only word his mind could summon.

Keith’s fingers dragged over the fabric of his jacket – of Lance’s jacket – before tucking themselves away into little fists. Lance frowned. The action looked so out of place on his body, but something in the way Keith did it made it feel as natural as the rising sun. Inevitable.

He wasn’t sure he liked the implications in that.

“What’s the glitch?” Keith asked, staring at the ground as if it were the one that would be offering him answers.

The static grew more frazzled and Lance grit his teeth against the assault on his ears. “—ot sure but—” Matt’s voice cracked and the connection was lost.

Keith turned on Lance. It was a stiff motion, Lance realized, because Keith was tense. Was he nervous? _I mean, we_ are _in some fucked up parody of_ Sword Art Online _so…_

“What happened when you glitched?” Keith asked, voice taut.

Lance’s mouth felt dry, as if all of the moisture that should’ve been there had evaporated under the heat of Keith’s stare. He tried to respond, but his tongue was cemented to the roof of his mouth. Swallowing, he tried again. “I, uh,” he said. The words felt gummy and wrong, and he hesitated.

If Keith really was an agent of the Wizard Council or, even worse, one of Zarkon’s men then it was guaranteed that saying _anything_ was a bad idea. But, if he wasn’t…

“My friend, Allura, tried to transport me to a forest so that I could gather a rare ingredient for a spell. Normally I don’t need anything like it, but there’s been… a situation.” The words were out before he’d had a chance to to talk himself out of telling Keith anything.

“A situation,” Keith repeated dryly.

There was no point in lying now. Might as well tell him everything. “I have to make a potion to revive Zarkon.”

Keith slammed into him, hand going immediately to his shoulder and pushing him down onto the bed. With startling efficiency, Keith pinned Lance’s arms to the mattress. _Coño_ , dude was totally working for the Wizard Council.

It turned out that the muscles on Keith’s body weren’t just for show; it was much easier to unpin his arms than he would’ve expected. Lance shoved Keith off of him and rolled off the bed. Moving instinctively, he popped up and put distance between himself and the bed, staring at Keith as he struggled to untangle the haphazard heap of limbs he’d landed in.

“I don’t want to!” Lance said, unable to stop the words now that they’d started. “I really, really, _really_ don’t want to. But I don’t have a choice!”

“You always have a choice!” Keith snapped, pointing a finger menacingly at Lance. The gesture would have been much more intimidating were the guy not still trying to untangle his legs. But Keith quickly found his feet, and was off the bed in a heartbeat, approaching Lance with the whole heat of his fury.

There was an awkward lurch to his step as he acquainted himself to a whole new center of balance, but the unsteady sway to his stride did little to make him seem more friendly to Lance’s cause.

Lance bristled. “Not this time!” He leaned into Keith’s approach and meeting him head on, arms held stiffly out by his sides.

“Yeah, you do!” Keith argued, voice rough as gravel being shoved through a woodchipper; it was full of contempt and loathing.

Lance shoved a finger into Keith’s chest. “No, I don’t!”

Keith’s face scrunched (and Lance was never going to be over the sheer _wrongness_ of looking at his own face as someone else’s) and he pointed to the android laying in a puddle of its own parts beside them. “You’re not that thing,” he said, and the venom of it burned away at any arguments Lance could have thrown at him. “You don’t have to follow a set of instructions that’ve been coded into you. There’s always a—”

“Always a chance. Yeah, you’ve said that,” Lance said, suddenly exhausted with this whole thing. “They’re going to kill my family and everyone I love if I don’t do it.”

Keith blinked. “Your family,” he said, face blank. He stared into nothing for a second. Lance waited for him to say something, but the second grew into a moment, and the moment into a minute, and nothing was more was said.

———

“I’m telling you, I know what I’m doing!”

“And I’m telling you to go that way!”

“Can it, Mullet! I know what I’m doing.”

To say that the past week had been rough would be an understatement. They’d made some meager progress after that disastrous first meeting (if it could even be called that) but so far they hadn’t found any answers.

 _We need to switch our bodies back before he can make the potion,_ Keith reminded himself for the tenth time that hour. Most of the time he couldn’t follow this guy’s reasoning, but for once he was agreeing with him. It would take a lot more time to teach Keith how to manage this stupid magic than it would to find a smelly flower.

That being said, the mullet jokes were beyond confusing. “I don’t have a mullet,” he muttered. He could _see_ his hair on Lance, and what he was calling a mullet could be summed up as _hasn’t gotten a proper haircut in three years_.

“ _Roxie, don’t bite the pineapple,_ ” a voice below them said smoothly, and Keith tensed.

Stealing from the Galra’s royal palace was risky enough, but from Lotor? And while he was there? It was suicide.

“I’m going in,” Keith said.

Lance scrambled to move the loose screws out of the way as Keith slipped through the open entrance to the ventilation shaft. “Be careful,” Lance hissed.

It had taken the large part of the week to get used to the extra length to his arms and the weird length of his torso (and boy had Lance gotten mad when he’d said that out loud) but he’d managed it. And while he certainly wasn’t able to move like he could in his own body, he’d gotten pretty damn good at it.

Shadows slipped over him, molding to his body and directing his breathing. _Do not engage,_ had been a difficult order at first, but with time he’d mastered the art of moving unseen. Once he’d been the most conspicuous member of the Blade of Marmora, recognizable even by the way he breathed. But he had learned to move smooth as clear water and quiet as time. Now unseen movement was ingrained within him, and, as awkward as it had been to adapt to Lance’s body, he managed it well.

“Who’s there?”

Keith froze. There was no way. No way in hell this guy had heard him, let alone seen him. _Don’t move. He’ll look over you and then forget that he noticed anything._ But what had he noticed? Despite the voice in his head screaming at him to be still, Keith turned his head to where Lotor sat at his desk.

Red light from the hologram monitor was reflected off the prince’s face and into his hair, casting strange shadows across his features and onto the floor. Keith couldn’t tell if the bags beneath his eyes were as exaggerated as they appeared in this lighting. Whatever the case, they bore truth to Lotor’s dedication to his research.

The dark fabric of Lotor’s tunic was rumpled and stained with soot. Its right sleeve was charred, and Keith realized that he’d used his arm to put out a fire. Again, Keith’s eyes were drawn to the harsh light of the hologram, but there was something different now. What was different?

Lotor’s yellow eyes snapped to Keith. They seemed to shine of their own power, emitting a soft yellow glow whose light went no further than the faintly glowing flower enclosed in a beaker on his desk. Keith’s breath caught in his throat. _No._ Getting the flower would be difficult- scratch that, _impossible_ with it sitting next to Lotor’s arm.

He should’ve known that was the least of their problems.

Lotor shot to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword. Keith blinked, and the weapon that had rested against the side of Lotor’s desk was drawn and held aloft.

“Do not make me ask again,” Lotor said, and took a step towards Keith’s hideaway.

 _It’s fine, he still doesn’t know Lance is here,_ Keith reminded himself, and stepped out of the shadows. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, taking solace in the knife clipped to his belt. No matter what happened, he could handle it.

Lance fell out of the air vent, sending a cloud of dust into the air, and Lotor bared his teeth and stepped back, hand moving towards his communicator.

That was when Keith knew they were well and truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: do not use your sleeve to put out fires! this is bad lab safety and you should not follow Lotor's example here!!
> 
> ...yeah so that first note was probably very confusing and i don't blame u but basically lexie motivated me to write by sending me some.... truly horrifying facts and kim added fuel to the fire by threatening to send me vore if i didn't have this done by today
> 
> like a true procrastinator, i wrote the final 1,000 words today

**Author's Note:**

> Our Tumblrs are:
> 
> Here [Lxie](http://l-x-ie.tumblr.com), Here [Kim](https://coralreefskim.tumblr.com), and Here [Ally](https://alcego.tumblr.com)


End file.
